Home of Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names: For Pagans, Witches, Wiccans, Druids, Heathens, Mages, Shamans & Independent Thinkers of All Sorts Who Are Curious About Names from Every Place and Every Time

In Wales, Dwnywen (pronounce “doo-in-wen” — the “doo-in” bit pronounced so quickly that it almost sounds like “dwin”) is considered the “Welsh St. Valentine,” and people increasingly mark St Dwynwen’s as well as — sometimes instead of — Valentine’s day.

Naturally, she has also become the Welsh patron saint of lovers.

Like Valentine, she’s a saint of very shadowy roots.

The legend says she lived in the fifth century, one of the many daughters of the legendary Brychan Brycheiniog — a man who, according to the myths, has more saintly children under his belt than most of us have hot dinners.

There are many versions of her tale, but in essence, she fell in love with a young man called Maelon, but would not marry him, either because her father forbade it or because she had sworn herself to a life of saintly celibacy.

She prayed for a solution — and an angel appeared with a magic potion to give to Maelon.

She gave it to him — and it turned him into a block of ice, thus saving him the sorrow of pining away for her, and to remove him from her temptation.

In some versions, she then asks for three requests — that Maelon be released, that she never marry, and that she could become the patron of true loves.

Not exactly happy-ever-after, but at least there’s no beheading!

The centre of Dwynwen’s cult was originally on a small island off the coast of Anglesey called Llanddwyn Island, which preserves another form of her name within its — Dwyn.

She is also known as Donwen, and Donwenna — all of which hint strongly at what may well be her true origin, the ancient Cymric Goddess Dôn.

Her name is almost certainly a combination of Dôn with gwyn. This is a familiar ending in Welsh names — featuring as Gwyn and Gwen at the start of names, and –wyn and –wen at the end (in Welsh, –wyn is always masculine, and –wen is feminine).

It’s basic meaning is “white,” but it also carries the sense of “pure” and “blessed.”

Dôn is the Welsh equivalent of the Irish Goddess Danu. In Welsh myth, she is the mother of the Plant Dôn—the “Children of Dôn”— a number of major Welsh deities, including Gwydion and Arianrhod.

As a very ancient Goddess, unraveling her name is difficult, and there are a number of options. One is the Common Celtic *dƒnu– “gift.”

However, she is associated with a number of rivers. There are four called Don in the British Isles, plus others that are related: the Dane in Cheshire,
two Devons (one English, one Scottish), and possibly the Teign, Tone, and Tyne too. Then there are the great European rivers deriving from the same root: the Danube, the Dneiper, and the Donetz.

Moreover, in the early medieval period, Dôn may also have been known as Donwy. An old name for the River Dee, which flows through Chester, is the Dwfrdonwy (dwfr is a Middle Welsh word meaning “water” + Donwy), while the Welsh name for the Danube is Afon Donwy—i.e. “River Donwy.” Donwy is also found in the name of yet another Welsh river, the Trydonwy, known in English as the Roden.

All this makes it quite likely that the name’s roots lie far, far back with the Proto-Indo-European *dānus “river.”

But there’s a further twist to this tale. What if this Goddess’s associations with rivers is so ancient that instead of her gaining the name “river,” the word *dānus derived from her name?

This would explain why there does not seem to be any vestige of *dānus with the meaning “river” in any of the living Celtic languages, despite the large number of rivers in the British isles which seem to derive from it.

But there is a further option for its etymology.

A clue lies with Deva, a Celtic name by which the Romans knew the River Dee. It points firmly towards the Proto-Indo-European *deyw-o– “a divine being,” combined with the suffix –ono– (often indicative of the name of a Deity).

Originally, *deyw-o-, seems to have carried connotations of relating to a sky God; it litters the Indo-European languages in words meaning “a god”, as well as names of individual Gods and Goddesses themselves, such as Zeus and Diana.

Despite her popularity in modern Wales, Dwynwen is a rarity. But it’s a pretty name, and whatever the truth that lies at its roots, no-one can dispute that it has history and positive associations in abundance.

Speculation is mounting in Britain that the Duchess of Cambridge is expecting.

And a recent change to the rules of royal succession means that their first child will be first in line to the throne, regardless of whether it is a girl or a boy.

Which means the choice of name takes on extra special importance.

It’s not true to say that since Queen Victoria, all heirs presumptive to the throne have borne the names of former kings or queens – but it’s almost true.

The exceptions are King Edward VII, whose full name was Albert Edward, his oldest son Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence, and King George VI, whose actual name was Albert Frederick Arthur George,

And Victoria herself, of course, who was Alexandrina Victoria.

And so, it is probably safe to say that, even if the child has a first name which has not been borne by a ruling monarch, its second name will be, and that will be its eventual throne name.

However, Kate is clearly a traditionalist through and through, so even if the throne name is a middle name instead of a first, it is very unlikely indeed any and all names the child will bear won’t feature somewhere in the royal family tree.

Which will be?

Well, it’s certainly noticeable that none of the Queen’s granddaughters have been called Victoria, which, given the fact a baby girl would one day be queen, has to be top of the list of names for Kate and Wills’ baby if it’s a girl.

Another likely contender is Mary. There has been a royal princess of the name virtually continually since the time of the fourteenth-century Mary of Woodstock, daughter of King Edward I – until the death of Queen Mary in 1953. It is another name notable for being ‘reserved’ since, prevented from use by more minor royals. It’s not remotely fashionable at present (nor is Victoria in Britain) – but that’s never bothered the royals before, and is unlikely to trouble them now. It might even be considered in the name’s favour.

Elizabeth must also a pretty major contender. That it might to be on the ‘reserved’ list was in evidence in 2003, when Prince Edward picked Louise for his daughter. Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother had died not long before and if Elizabeth wasn’t on the list of names ‘put aside’ for royals higher up the pecking order, it would have, perhaps, been a rather more likely choice.

Then there are the names of the three ‘almost queens’, which might, possibly, be judged acceptable for a future Queen of the Realm, namely Jane, Charlotte and Matilda. Lady Jane Grey was ‘Queen for Nine Days’ in 1553; she was never crowned, and ended up with her head on the block, but, nevertheless, she was declared Queen of England after the death of her cousin, King Edward VI.

Meanwhile, we would have had a Queen Charlotte, had Princess Charlotte of Wales not died in childbirth in 1817. Her death sparked a national crisis, as King George III had prevented all his other children from marrying. That all changed; the princes all set about marrying and reproducing – and Queen Victoria was one of the results.

Lastly, Matilda, daughter of King Henry I and mother of King Henry II was de facto queen in 1141; and she and her cousin Stephen, the man formally considered king during the period, were embroiled for many years in a messy civil war. Peace finally came when Stephen promised to make Matilda’s son his heir.

And while it would be unlikely as a first name, I’ll eat my crane bag if Diana doesn’t feature amongst her likely four given names.

As for boys, there is one name which is screaming out as top contender for Wills and Kate’s first son – George. Like Victoria and Mary, it has had a distinctly ‘reserved’ sign on it for the last fifty years. George is also one of the most popular names amongst the British Upper Class – half of Wills’ Old Etonian friends will be Georges.

Are there others? Well, most of the names of other kings are currently ‘occupied’, which is likely to rule them out: Charles, by Will’s dad, Henry by his brother, Edward by his uncle, James by his cousin, Richard by a second cousin, William by Wills himself. Those which are not are limited to John and Stephen.

John is a no-no; it is regarded as the royal family’s unlucky name, and is unlikely to see use again for centuries.

Stephen is an interesting one; since King Stephen’s time, it has never been used again. The fact that it is ‘unfashionable’ at the moment, however, is perhaps more likely to count in its favour; the royals have never particularly concerned themselves about such things. I would be surprised, though; after all, look what happened when John got resurrected from the medieval scrolls…

There are also the names of the ‘almost-rans’, which widen the choice a bit. Probably the most likely of this bunch for Kate and Wills is Arthur. King Henry VII’s eldest son was called Arthur, and would have been king had he not died before his father, while, a few centuries earlier, Arthur, Duke of Brittany had been the intended heir of King Richard I. It is also one of both Prince Charles’ given names and Wills’. It’s also another name which has seen most use in the last thirty years in the British upper class.

Other sometime heirs presumptive of British Kings, who never made the throne because they died before their fathers were Eustace, Count of Bologne (son of King Stephen), Alphonso, Earl of Chester (son of King Edward I), Frederick, Prince of Wales (son of King George II), and the already mentioned Albert, Duke of Clarence (son of King Edward VII). Frederick might have been a distinct possibility – but it is already borne by another of Will’s second cousins, Lord Frederick Windsor.

Really, of the others, only Albert is a serious contender, although it is telling that neither King Edward VII, nor King George VI ruled as King Albert I. And it is also worth bearing in mind that when King George was born, he was not expected to inherit the throne – he had an older brother, Edward (later King Edward VIII).

But Albert Victor, the Duke of Clarence, would have been King Albert I.

Still, it would be seen as a break in convention for a baby born to be king or queen to bear a name other than one of the names of its predecessors on the throne – and I think Kate (if not Wills) is rather too conventional for that…

I’m not one who generally goes in for “sibsets” much, but there is one large family which has fascinated me since a visit to Chatsworth as a child, and today I thought I’d break the mould a bit and head off down the sibset road for a change.

That family is the Mitfords.

There are, of course, probably hundreds of families around the world called Mitford — but the Mitfords refers to one very specific clan.

The children — principally the girls (there was one boy, Thomas, killed in World War II) — of David Freeman-Mitford, 2nd Baron Redesdale.

Also known as “the Mitford sisters”, the Mitfords were at the heart of the British upper class social scene in the first half of the twentieth century. Their names are quite an eclectic mix of the literary, mythological, puritan, biblical and informal, which might startle some.

I, for one, don’t think Lord and Lady Redesdale worried too much about how well the names all “went together.” It just isn’t the sort of thing the British aristocracy does. “Very non-U,” as Nancy would say.

Nancy was the eldest of the Mitfords, born in 1904. Just Nancy. Well, the Honourable Miss Nancy. She became a well-known novelist and biographer, best known for The Pursuit of Love (1945) and Love in a Cold Climate (1949). She died in France in 1973.

Nancy is a long established pet-form of Ann(e), found in independent use since at least the nineteenth century. Americans probably associate it most with Nancy Reagan (whose birth name is Anne). There’s also the tragic Nancy of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist (1838), while the eldest daughter of British Prime Minister David Cameron is called Nancy Gwen (b.2004).

Next is Pamela, born in 1907, probably the least controversial and well-known of the family. She died in Italy in 1994.

Pamela was created by Sir Philip Sidney in the late sixteenth century for a character in Arcadia, and is generally interpreted as a coinage from the Greek pan “all”+ meli “honey.” It was a favorite of the British aristocracy in the early twentieth century — another notable bearer was Churchill’s daughter-in-law, born in 1920.

The third daughter was the infamous Diana (1910-2003), a celebrated beauty, whose second husband was the British Fascist leader, Sir Oswald Mosley (1896-1980). Leaving no-one in doubt of where their sympathies lay, when they married in 1936, it was at the home of Nazi Joseph Goebbels in the presence of Hitler.

Diana, the name of the Roman Goddess of hunting and the moon, was another name embraced with gusto by the British upper class in the early twentieth century. Lady Diana Spencer, later Princess of Wales, being the example par excellence.

Fourth was Unity Valkyrie, born in 1914. Her name was particularly ominous, as she embraced Nazism even more than her sister, and was rumored to have been a lover of Hitler himself. Some even claim she had Hitler’s child. She died in 1948.

Unity “unity” was first used by Puritans in the sixteenth century, though was unusual until the twentieth, when it probably saw its most use.

Valkyrie — a “Valkyrie” of Germanic mythology — was first used as a given name in the late nineteenth century, probably inspired by the works of Wagner.

Fifth Mitford was Jessica “Decca” Lucy, born in 1917. She gravitated to the other end of the political spectrum, and became an ardent communist. The rest of the family nicknamed her the “red sheep.” Her first husband, Esmond, who fought against Fascism in the Spanish Civil War, was related by marriage to Winston Churchill, and the couple emigrated to the States before the Second World War. Esmond returned to fight at the outbreak of war, and went missing in action in 1941, but she remained in America for the rest of her life, working as a political activist and investigative journalist, until her death in 1996.

Jessica has become so ubiquitous it is difficult to contemplate a time when it was still a literary rarity, but when Jessica Mitford was born, it was firmly in that category. Coined by Shakespeare — probably from the biblical Iscah (“he beholds”) for a character in The Merchant of Venice (c.1596-98).

Last is Deborah “Debo” Vivien, borin in 1920. She married Lord Andrew Cavendish, the younger son of the Duke of Devonshire. The older son, William, Marquis of Hartington married Kathleen Kennedy, sister of JFK. Both Kathleen and William died tragically young, and on his father’s death, Andrew inherited the Dukedom and the Cavendish estates — including Chatsworth, one of the most famous English stately homes. Aged 91, Deborah, Dowager Duchess of Devonshire still lives on the Chatsworth estate.

Like Jessica, since the Hon. Deborah Mitford was born, Deborah has gained a life of its own, but it was still quite a rarity in 1920, with a distinctly aristocratic edge. Another English toff, the Hon. Vita Sackville West, used it for the name of her elderly heroine in All Passion Spent (1931).

Vivien is a rarer form of Vivian, ultimately from Latin vivus “alive.” In some British circles in the first half of the twentieth century, Vivien was considered the “correct” form for girls, and Vivian for boys, but it is clear from the records that in practice, Vivian was considerably more popular generally for both.

This 6th Century BCE dinos (wine-mixing bowl) by Sophilos shows a procession of Greek Gods attending the wedding of Peleus and Thetis

There seems to be a bit of a controversy in Pagan circles about the use of the names of Gods and Goddesses, either for children, or as a new name for oneself.

There are those who argue that it is inappropriate. Even hubristic.

But as with most aspects of Paganism, much of the answer to this question comes down to your own personal beliefs, and how you view the Divine.

And this, of course, will play a big part in whether you think it is acceptable or not to use a God or Goddess’s name.

If you are a polytheist — if you consider the Gods to be distinct, individual entities, completely separate from mortal life — perhaps you might agree that using their names is inappropriate.

In which case, you should, of course, avoid, or choose names which contain a deity’s name, or carry the meaning ‘belonging to such-and-such’, rather than the deity’s name itself.

But if you are a pantheist — if you believe that the Divine is in all things, making us all essentially ‘divine beings’ — then choosing the name of a God or Goddess might be seen as not just acceptable, but suitable and respectful.

Using the actual names of Gods and Goddesses is not a new phenomenon.

Several names from ancient Paganism have long become established as given names in the English-speaking world. These include Aurora, Branwen, Bridget, Diana, Felicity, Flora, Freya, Irene, Iris, Lilith, Luna, Maia, Phoebe, Rhiannon, Sophia and Victoria.

The names of male divinities used for boys is less common, but there are still some, which have seen varying amounts of use, such as Adonis, Augustus, Dylan, Hercules, Julius, Odin — and Jesus. This last may be principally found in the Spanish community, pronounced ‘he-SOOS’ and used in reference to a Catholic festival, but nevertheless, it’s still the name of a figure considered divine by many, and currently ranking 92nd in the US.

In some religions, such as Hinduism, it has long been considered not just acceptable to use the name of a God or Goddess, but desirable, because it is believed that the child will grow to be like the deity, as well as be protected by them.

And incorporating the name of a divinity within a given name is a tradition as old as writing — take a look at my articles on Sumerian names Part 1 and Part 2 to see some of the earliest.

There’s also the power of the positive. Call it ‘good’, ‘light’, ‘love’, ‘karma’ whatever. It seems common sense to choose names with as much positivity as you can.

And, let’s face it, you can’t get much more positive than the names of the Divine itself!

There are literally tens of thousands of named Gods and Goddesses across the world, and my only caveat when choosing a God or Goddess’ name would be to select one that you not only like the sound of, but also feel an affinity with.

Here is just a small selection from some of the world’s principal mythologies:

I’m staying in the Americas today, as another country is celebrating its independence – its 200th anniversary in fact.

On the 5th July 1811, Venezuela announced its independence from Spain, and today Venezuelans are celebrating.

To honour this event, I thought I’d take a look at Venezuelan Names.

Venezuelan names have gained a reputation for being inventive and innovating (or way-out and wacky, depending on whom you’re talking to – great old article here from the New York Times, if you missed it the first time around!).

In 2007, the trend had grown so widespread that there was a backlash amongst the more conservative elements in Venezuelan government, which threatened to see such names banned and parents limited to a choice of just 100 names.

Obviously, this was considered preposterous; the notion was dismissed, leaving Venezuelan parents free to continue to name their children with whatever takes their fancy, without giving a hoot for what anyone else thinks.

Personally, I find the attitude quite refreshing – even though I would draw a line at the more notorious Venezuelan Names such as Stalin, Hitler, Yesaidú (yes, I do) and Iroshima (Hiroshima).

I don’t intend to dwell on the names most people consider outlandish on this special day for Venezuelans (for all the hype, most Venezuelans still choose pretty conservative names for their children; in 2010, the top five girls’ names were Camila, Isabella, Sofía, Victoria and Valentina, while the boys were Sebastián, Santiago, Samuel, Diego and Gabriel).

Instead, I thought I’d focus on Venezuelan names with wider appeal. For as well as all the cooky names, a lot of pretty nifty new names have emerged from Venezuela’s slightly anarchic creativity in past decades that are worth a look.

Feliz día de la independencia, Venezuela!

Betulio ♂ — a name which immediately highlights the fact that with many Venezuelan names, it is all but impossible to identify its origin. The most famous bearer is Betulio González (b.1949), the Venezuelan boxer. The most likely source seems to be the Latin betula ‘birch’.

Chiquinquirá ♀ — the name of a town in Colombia, made well known in Venezuela by (María) Chiquinquirá Delgado (b.1972), a model, actress and TV presenter. This is a classic Catholic religious name, rather than an invention; Chiquinquirá is home to the ‘Virgin of Chiquinquirá’, patron saint of Colombia and the Venezuelan province of Zulia, where Chiquinquirá was born.

Coraima ♀ — popularly derived from Greek korê ‘maiden’ and touted in Spanish with the elaborated meaning of templo divino de la juventud – ‘divine temple of youth’. Its most famous bearer in Venezeula is the actress Coraima Torres (b.1973), who is said to have Lebanese ancestry, so it is possibly its true origins lie with an Arabic name such as Karima ‘kind’ and ‘generous’.

Dayana ♀ — probably plucked straight from the world of plants; dayana features as part of the botanical name of more than one South American orchid. It was coined at the end of the 19th C in honor of the English botanist John Day (1824-88). Dayana’s similarity to Diana probably influenced its adoption too.

Goizeder ♀ — actually a Basque name from goiz ‘morning’ + eder ‘beautiful’, but it is Venezuelan model and TV presenter Goizeder Azúa (b.1984) — of Basque ancestry — who has put the name on the radar.

Greivis ♂ — Greivis Vásquez (b. 1987) is a Venezuelan-born basketball player. His name appears to be a classic Venezuelan coinage, devised to appear foreign — and thus exotic and desirable in the mind of the creator. Somewhere, deep in its subconscious, may lie the English surname Grieves or Graves.

Hannelly ♀ — this seems to be an adoption of the unusual surname of Irish origin, which is probably a variant of Hanley and deriving ultimately from the Irish Gaelic áluin ‘beautiful’. Why it should be taken up as a girl’s name in Venezuela is simply Venezuelan. Hannelly Quintero (b.1985) — a model and TV presenter — is responsible for bringing the name to a wider audience.

Huáscar ♂ — Spanish form of Incan Waskar Inca, the name of a 16th Century Incan Emperor. Its use is a good example of the fact that Venezuelans don’t ignore their Native American heritage in the search for interesting names.

Keidy ♀ — Highly likely a phonetic spelling of Katy – pronounced with an American accent. Keidy Moreno (b.1983) is an international model.

Majandra ♀ — a combination of María and Alejandra, made well-known in Venezuela by the actress and singer Majandra Delfino (b.1981), whose birth name was Maria Alejandra.

Mayré ♀ — almost certainly conceived as a phonetic rendition of the plain English Mary; many English names are popular in Venezuela, often spiced up with creative spellings. Mayré Martínez (b.1978) is a Venezuelan singer-songwriter.

Ninibeth ♀ — probably a combination of Nina and Beth. Ninibeth Leal (b.1971) is a former Miss World.

Ugueth ♂ — As borne by Ugueth Urbina (b. 1974), a former baseball player – though as he is now in prison for attempted murder, he is a bit of a persona non grata in Venezuela at present. Possibly, just possibly, related to Hugh; Ugo is the Italian form of Hugh, while Ugue and Ugues are found in Provence (while the usual French form is Hugues).

Veruska ♀ — a visitor to Venezuela might be surprised to find so many Russian and Russian-style Venezuelan names, but these were popular during the Cold War. Veruska is a pet-form of Russian Vera – though it now seems far more common in Latin America! Verushka is another form.

Yaxeni ♀ — probably a reworking of Xenia or Yesenia, or perhaps a blend of both. Yaxeni Oriquen (b. 1966) is well-known in Venezuela as a female body-building champion.

Yormery ♀ — another classic Venezuelan invention; almost certainly a respelling of English your Mary.